My phone rings around lunch time today.
"Hello?"
"Oh. Okay, then," says Jobthingy on the other line.
"...Sorry?"
"I was just calling to see if there was a baby yet. You haven't posted in your blog so I thought you might be having a child."
"Um, no. But obviously I'll be calling you when the real thing happens."
"Ok, good. Thanks."
"..."
Jobthingy and The Madre are very similar in many respects. This is a scary discovery, as I didn't realize the world could handle two people... uh, like that. I've decided never to let them meet as I have a feeling I couldn't handle them both at the same time. They'd gang up on me in under five minutes, especially if I haven't posted in my blog yet that day.
So no, there is no baby. There is no sign of a baby appearing in the very near future. I'm still contracting, I'm still miserable and I'm still the size of eight soccer fields. I still get many pitiful/mortified looks and extremely bright comments. Here are some of my favourites:
'Wow! You have a big belly!'
I would love to look down, go wide-eyed and start screaming: 'OH MY GOD! OH CRAP! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??! SOMEBODY HELP ME!'
If anything, it would clear out the Tim Horton's line and I could get my coffee faster.
'Are there twins in there?'
I actually replied once with 'Septuplets, actually. I'm due in six months.'
'Have you popped that kid yet?'
I normally just say 'No, not yet', but last week, when a member of my 12 step group asked (jokingly, of course) I said 'Yeah, but he was ugly looking so I put him back in.'
Oh, the joys of late pregnancy.
Today marks the longest I've ever gone in a pregnancy: 39 weeks and 2 days. To celebrate, I had my black and white belly picture blown up to an 8x10 and bought a nice frame so it can be put up in the nursery (read: so when Geekster needs a break from Hormonal Beast Girl, he has an excuse to disappear and do something productive). I also made Rice Krispy squares with Gutsy and will be doing some laundry in a bit, as I only have two pairs of pants and three shirts that fit over my belly.
I don't know what it means that InUtero Boy is taking as long as he is. He must be mastering an entirely new form of evil. Something that will put his brothers to shame, or at least bring them to their knees in admiration. I just hope he doesn't grow a tail while he's in there. The horns are enough of a giveaway. And at least for those I have an array of newborn hats until he's old enough that I can file them down.
My prenatal went well in the sense that the babe and I are both very healthy. He's measuring 45cm instead of 46cm this week and is lower than he was. Hey, I'll take any sign of impending labour right now, thankyouverymuch.
However, remember the prelabour I mentioned over the weekend that lasted for over 20 hours and sent me into 'We should go to the hospital because this might be it?' mode? I told the doctor what had happened, that I had been examined and was told there had been no change. She tried to be the positive person she is and said 'Well, let's check again, ok? Because I record not only dilation, but cervical position, effacement and firmness. So I might find that it actually did bring you closer'.
Then she stuck her fingers into places that are quite uncomfortable, felt around a bit and said 'No change from last time. Sorry.'
And you know what? We had a good laugh. Because really, that's all you can do. Especially when you're already bordering on insanity like I am. Giggling is far more fun than crying or gnawing on things.
In the end, what was supposed to be my final prenatal most likely isn't. I see her on the 10th - my 'official' due date - to get my membranes stripped (if you don't know what that is, lucky you) and book a cesarean for a few days later. *sigh* I don't want a cesarean, so I am willing to try just about anything to promote labour coming on its own. The hospital won't induce me because of the risk of placental abruption in VBACs. I don't know if I quite agree, but I do know that Pitocin fills me with a pain I would rather not experience for a third time, so I'll go with their recommendations. I'm going to try some massage and accupuncture later this week if nothing happens on its own.
Remind me to use 'Insane in the Membranes' as my blog post for the day I get my membranes stripped, ok? It's just too great a line to pass up.
***
Last, but not least (but last because I had to whine first - it's a mandatory end-of-pregnancy requirement):
A BIG congrats to the VTs (that would be Kate's family) who have welcomed baby Boston into the world! You can find adorable pictures here. I'm so thrilled for them!
"Hello?"
"Oh. Okay, then," says Jobthingy on the other line.
"...Sorry?"
"I was just calling to see if there was a baby yet. You haven't posted in your blog so I thought you might be having a child."
"Um, no. But obviously I'll be calling you when the real thing happens."
"Ok, good. Thanks."
"..."
Jobthingy and The Madre are very similar in many respects. This is a scary discovery, as I didn't realize the world could handle two people... uh, like that. I've decided never to let them meet as I have a feeling I couldn't handle them both at the same time. They'd gang up on me in under five minutes, especially if I haven't posted in my blog yet that day.
So no, there is no baby. There is no sign of a baby appearing in the very near future. I'm still contracting, I'm still miserable and I'm still the size of eight soccer fields. I still get many pitiful/mortified looks and extremely bright comments. Here are some of my favourites:
'Wow! You have a big belly!'
I would love to look down, go wide-eyed and start screaming: 'OH MY GOD! OH CRAP! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??! SOMEBODY HELP ME!'
If anything, it would clear out the Tim Horton's line and I could get my coffee faster.
'Are there twins in there?'
I actually replied once with 'Septuplets, actually. I'm due in six months.'
'Have you popped that kid yet?'
I normally just say 'No, not yet', but last week, when a member of my 12 step group asked (jokingly, of course) I said 'Yeah, but he was ugly looking so I put him back in.'
Oh, the joys of late pregnancy.
Today marks the longest I've ever gone in a pregnancy: 39 weeks and 2 days. To celebrate, I had my black and white belly picture blown up to an 8x10 and bought a nice frame so it can be put up in the nursery (read: so when Geekster needs a break from Hormonal Beast Girl, he has an excuse to disappear and do something productive). I also made Rice Krispy squares with Gutsy and will be doing some laundry in a bit, as I only have two pairs of pants and three shirts that fit over my belly.
I don't know what it means that InUtero Boy is taking as long as he is. He must be mastering an entirely new form of evil. Something that will put his brothers to shame, or at least bring them to their knees in admiration. I just hope he doesn't grow a tail while he's in there. The horns are enough of a giveaway. And at least for those I have an array of newborn hats until he's old enough that I can file them down.
My prenatal went well in the sense that the babe and I are both very healthy. He's measuring 45cm instead of 46cm this week and is lower than he was. Hey, I'll take any sign of impending labour right now, thankyouverymuch.
However, remember the prelabour I mentioned over the weekend that lasted for over 20 hours and sent me into 'We should go to the hospital because this might be it?' mode? I told the doctor what had happened, that I had been examined and was told there had been no change. She tried to be the positive person she is and said 'Well, let's check again, ok? Because I record not only dilation, but cervical position, effacement and firmness. So I might find that it actually did bring you closer'.
Then she stuck her fingers into places that are quite uncomfortable, felt around a bit and said 'No change from last time. Sorry.'
And you know what? We had a good laugh. Because really, that's all you can do. Especially when you're already bordering on insanity like I am. Giggling is far more fun than crying or gnawing on things.
In the end, what was supposed to be my final prenatal most likely isn't. I see her on the 10th - my 'official' due date - to get my membranes stripped (if you don't know what that is, lucky you) and book a cesarean for a few days later. *sigh* I don't want a cesarean, so I am willing to try just about anything to promote labour coming on its own. The hospital won't induce me because of the risk of placental abruption in VBACs. I don't know if I quite agree, but I do know that Pitocin fills me with a pain I would rather not experience for a third time, so I'll go with their recommendations. I'm going to try some massage and accupuncture later this week if nothing happens on its own.
Remind me to use 'Insane in the Membranes' as my blog post for the day I get my membranes stripped, ok? It's just too great a line to pass up.
***
Last, but not least (but last because I had to whine first - it's a mandatory end-of-pregnancy requirement):
A BIG congrats to the VTs (that would be Kate's family) who have welcomed baby Boston into the world! You can find adorable pictures here. I'm so thrilled for them!